Hi there! Today I’m sharing a guest post for a new M/M paranormal romance from Jacob Z. Flores. SPELL FALL is the fourth book in his Havenbridge series featuring magic, wizards and mischief.
Catch the Dear Diary post from the author, an excerpt and be sure to scroll down and enter to win a $50 Amazon GC or one of five second prizes of a backlist book!
About the book:
Love and trust made them soul mates, but destiny might have other plans.
Ever since Drake Carpenter fell in love with warlock Mason Blackmoor, his life has been one supernatural battle after another, but Drake doesn’t mind… much. To be with Mason and experience the magical connection they share, Drake would face entire hordes of vampyren, shifters, or fae—and he has. Luckily Drake is immune to magic, though no one can explain his natural ability to negate almost any enchantment. With Drake’s own family gone, Mason is all he has. So why is Drake experiencing disturbing dreams about Mason that terrify him?
A new threat looms on the horizon, and a revelation about Drake’s identity and the true origin of his bond with Mason shatters everything Drake believes. If Drake, Mason, and all of magic are to survive the coming Spell Fall, the most destructive curse in sorcery, Drake must deal with the truth and fight his way back to Mason—because their enemies are gaining strength, and they intend to reach the boy Drake loves first.
Some fun insights in to this series from the author!
Dear Diary, Part III
Hi, everyone! I’m Jacob Z. Flores, and it’s another day on my promotional tour for Spell Fall, the fourth book of my Warlock Brothers of Havenbridge series, which follows the lives of Mason, Thad, and Pierce Blackmoor, three magical brothers.
Each brother has narrated his own book, where he battled the enemies that threatened his life and the magical community. In each book, the brothers also found true love.
For the remainder of the series, the brothers hand over the narrating role to their boyfriends, and Mason’s human boyfriend Drake is the first up to bat.
Spell Fall kicks off the second and final story arc of the series, so to prepare readers for the fourth book I’ve shared two entries from Drake’s journal that have explained what has been happening in Havenbridge since we last left the mystical town.
Today, I’ll be sharing the third and final entry that will lead us right to chapter one in Spell Fall.
It’s been weeks since we returned from Aeaea and put a stop to Ben and Sersie, and we still haven’t heard a peep out of the Conclave. That’s made things a little…tense around here.
Mr. Blackmoor has been spending more and more time in his room. Pierce has been angrier than a wet hen, and Thad’s grown so cold and distant he’s practically covered in frost. Not even Aiden has been able to thaw him out.
And Mason? Well, he puts on a good front. He cracks jokes and acts like an ass, pretending as if everything is okay, but it isn’t. It’s not like he really believes that anyway. He’s trying to take our minds off our crap and I love him for it, but it isn’t helping.
Especially with tomorrow hanging over my head.
God, I don’t even want to think about tomorrow. Maybe that’s why I’ve been throwing myself into pretty much every book in the Blackmoor’s magical library, searching for answers that just aren’t there. Because it’s easier to deal with this mystical mess than to deal with…I just have to say it (or write it). Maybe that will force me to accept what I don’t want to accept.
Tomorrow, I say good-bye to Aunt Millie.
I know what you’re thinking, Diary. She’s been…gone for months now, but she’s not really gone, is she? She’s a vampyre, an undead monster that’s tried to kill me more times than I can count.
But tomorrow isn’t about my vampyre aunt Millie. Tomorrow is about the woman who took me in after my parents died. Tomorrow is about saying good-bye to her house now that it’s finally sold and to all the memories we made there together.
Tomorrow, that chapter in my life closes once and for all. Whether I’m ready or not.
And I’m not ready. I’ve been avoiding it, but those days are over. The new owners closed on the house last week and will be moving in soon. When they do, they’ll erase the last piece of Aunt Millie I have left and replace it with their possessions, their memories.
All I’ll have left is the Aunt Millie who wants to kill me.
Mason, God love him, is driving me to her house tomorrow. He wants me to say good-bye. He thinks that will give me closure, and he’s partly right. I need to say farewell to the wonderful woman she’ll always be to me, and I need to do it on my terms.
Maybe it will make facing her again as a vampyre easier. I doubt it, but hey, anything’s possible, right?
But no matter how hard tomorrow will be, knowing Mason will be by my side, where he’s been since I met him, gives me the strength I need to do what has to be done.
I love him so much. He’s been more than my rock lately. He’s been my compass, pointing me home. What would I do without him?
Hopefully, I’ll never have to find out.
How about a little taste?
A succession of loud bangs jolted me awake. I sat up, pulled open the nightstand drawer, and reached inside for the pistol I kept there for times such as these. When my hand didn’t close around the cool silver butt of the gun, I panicked. Where the hell was it?
“Fuuuuck!” Mason groaned in bed next to me. “Leave us alone.”
“Get your lazy asses out of bed. We’ve got shit to do.”
It was Pierce on the other side of the door, not—
Mason sat up, flipped off the closed door, and burrowed back under the covers.
Pierce banged on the frame three more times. “I mean it. Get your asses downstairs in fifteen minutes or Dad’ll be the one coming up here to get you.”
Crap. We definitely didn’t want that. Mr. Blackmoor didn’t tolerate tardiness. He’d transform his body into stone and turn the bedroom door into splinters. “We’ll be right down.”
Pierce grunted before his footsteps padded back downstairs.
I nudged Mason with my foot. “Wake up.”
“Can’t. Tired. Need sleep.”
What I needed was answers. There was definitely more to that dream from last night.
“Mason, please. We need to talk.”
A low snore was my only reply.
He sat up as if he were a jack-in-the-box. Even though his eyes were still half-closed and his black hair resembled a rat’s nest, the hum of his shadow powers filled the room. “Who is it? What is it? Tell me where to shoot.”
I sighed before placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Jeez. Power down before you blast me.” The hateful gaze of the Mason in my dream filled my memory. I shook the image from my mind and took several deep breaths.
“Did you have that dream again?”
“I don’t think it was a dream.”
He scrunched up his lips and glanced sideways at me. “Then what the hell was it?”
That was the million-dollar question.
Click on this Rafflecopter giveaway link for your chance to win a $50 Amazon GC or one of Jacob’s backlist books.
Good luck and keep reading my friends.
About the Author:
Jacob Z. Flores lives a double life. During the day, he is a respected college English professor and mid-level administrator. At night and during his summer vacation, he loosens the tie and tosses aside the trendy sports coat to write man on man fiction, where the hard ass assessor of freshmen level composition turns his attention to the firm posteriors and other rigid appendages of the characters in his fictional world.
Summers in Provincetown, Massachusetts, provide Jacob with inspiration for his fiction. The abundance of barely clothed man flesh and daily debauchery stimulates his personal muse.
When he isn’t stroking the keyboard, Jacob spends time with his daughter. They both represent a bright blue blip in an otherwise predominantly red swath in south Texas.